


the promise burns a flame (and will you return from so far away?)

by allmywill



Category: Arcadia (UK Band), Duran Duran
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Tenderness, the angst is mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21511891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmywill/pseuds/allmywill
Summary: It takes Simon a while to notice that something’s off with Nick.
Relationships: Nick Rhodes & John Taylor (Duran Duran), Simon Le Bon/Nick Rhodes
Comments: 14
Kudos: 17





	the promise burns a flame (and will you return from so far away?)

**Author's Note:**

> i’d like to thank Tash (@Pink_and_Velvet) for the prompt and inspiration for this. you’re truly the best!
> 
> title from El Diablo by Arcadia.

It takes Simon a while to notice that something’s off with Nick.

He’s never been awfully emotive, choosing to hide away his feelings and deal with them quietly on his own. Simon respects his space, leaves him be when he needs time, but it’s starting to get out of hand now. He’s not himself. He’s quieter than usual, and no matter what Simon says or does, trying to get him to open up even a little, it’s no use.

He hides behind his dark makeup and his teased hair. He always pretends he’s just busy, distracted by the work that needs to get done. Simon sees right past it; there’s a reason why he’s acting this way. Something is wrong, something is bothering him deeply, and he won’t admit it or talk about it.

One thing that hasn’t changed about Nick is his response to physical touch. The two of them have done countless photo shoots for pin-ups and magazine features that they’ve since lost count. In many of their pictures, Simon remains close to him, so close that some of them are starting to look like something from a married couple’s wedding album. He doesn’t mind, he’s been told they photograph well together. He agrees.

During and after these shoots, he finds himself with his hands on Nick. They fall upon his shoulders and back most of the time, sometimes his waist or his knee if they’re sitting beside each other. Nick never flinches away, he always allows Simon’s touch. That he’s thankful for, since it lets him know that everything is okay between the two of them.

But Nick’s been growing more clingy as of lately, in the public eye and even more so when they’re alone together. He touches his hands, almost as if he wants to hold them. He curls into his side, with his arms wrapped around him sometimes, too. Simon lets him, always. He knows how hard the past few months have been on him. Maybe this is all he needs, maybe he’ll get better.

Part of him enjoys it. He likes having the keyboardist hanging on him, for reasons unknown to even himself. Perhaps it’s because they’ve become so close since they’ve done the album together. Maybe it’s something else entirely. Whatever it is, Simon appreciates his presence, appreciates knowing that he’s within reach, always.

Nick had always said that John was his best friend, but now, Simon doesn’t hear him say that anymore. Since the Arcadia and Power Station split, he hasn’t said very much about him. Somewhere deep within himself, Simon is glad. He feels a strange misplaced sense of pride that he’s taken his place as Nick’s best friend now. He has nothing against John, never did in the five years he’s known him. He only wants to be close to Nick.

And tonight, Simon is getting just what he wants.

There’s really no need for them to share a hotel suite; money is no issue, but here they are, living in each other’s space even when they don’t have to. It’s been hours since the sun has set, enclosing the two of them in darkness only interrupted by warm lamplight. Dreamy and a touch bit sad, Nick is buried up to his neck in warm sheets. He listens for Simon in the other room, waiting for him to come say goodnight like he always does.

Simon makes his way into the room soon enough. Nick feels tired enough to doze off in an instant, but he doesn’t want to sleep just yet. He feels the bed dip by his feet and his pulse slows. The other man’s presence has a soothing effect on him.

“Radio show at 9,” Simon breaks the silence between them gently. “I’ll wake you up bright and early, alright?”

Nick wants to drown in his voice. “Yeah, okay.” He doesn’t know what else to say, doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say.

Simon looks at him and his heart swells in the strangest way. He too doesn’t know what to say, though there’s a million words swirling around in his brain. He wants to ask him what’s wrong more than anything.

After a few beats of silence, he gets up and turns to leave. “You seem tired, so I’ll leave you be. Goodnight—”

“Wait,” Nick calls after him, pushing some of the covers away. Suddenly, he feels more awake. He doesn’t want to be alone, not tonight.

Simon, confused, stops in his tracks. He walks back over to the bed and stops in front of Nick, towering over his frame. He looks even smaller when he’s curled up in bed. “What’s wrong?” he asks, finally.

Nick’s eyes meet his; they share a vulnerable moment. “Could you stay?” he replies with another question.

“I’m not leaving, I’ll be in the other room.”

“No, I mean here, in mine,” Nick says, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch him, to pull Simon down into the bed with him.

Simon doesn’t press the issue any further. He doesn’t want to upset him, since he already looks so fragile. “Oh,” he breathes, “okay.”

He turns off the lamp on the bedside table, cloaking them in the blackness of night. He walks around to other side of the bed. They’ve shared a bed together before, in the early days, but this feels different. There is no Roger, Andy, or John. It’s just the two of them, alone.

Lifting the sheets, Simon slides in next to him, and he’s pleasantly surprised when Nick flips around to face him. He moves closer to him, but it’s Nick who causes them to meet. He leans forward and rests his head on his chest. Another surprise, this time, it’s Simon who presses even closer, wrapping an arm around him. He’s holding him, hoping his touch will help ease whatever is aching like medicine.

Simon places his head on top of Nick’s, the softness of his jet black hair tickling his chin. He lets his hand rest upon his back, the gentle contact making them both start to doze off. It’s been a long day. They’ve both been working hard.

Nick feels safe in Simon’s arms. Instead of his head torturing him with thoughts he’d rather not be plagued with, especially at night, he’s relaxed, melting into the other man’s arms. The last thing he remembers is the sound of his heartbeat. The steady drumming sends him off to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

———

It’s their last night before they get on another plane and fly to New York for more promo. Nick’s been weird; nothing has changed since they’ve been traveling around the past couple weeks. Simon’s felt more protective of him. Ever since that night he fell asleep in his arms, after practically begging him to stay, he has kept an eye on him at all times.

He won’t open up, and though his skin is soft, he’s like hard candy that Simon just can’t seem to break open. He doesn’t know what’s inside of him, what’s past his outer shell, and it drives him crazy. He wants to uncover him. Secrets swim around his head but he’s not allowed to know what they are. It’s almost frustrating. Almost.

All the coddling has gotten Simon nowhere. He thought eventually Nick would crack and tell him what’s wrong. He’s starting to lose hope and he doesn’t know what to do. If he pries, he’s likely to upset him. He’s fragile, he’s glass in his current state, it seems. Simon continues to wrap him in his warmth as he wonders what’s on his mind. It’s eating away at him, the same way whatever it is eats away at Nick.

The two of them are sitting side by side, the glow of the TV on their faces as they talk about the music videos playing one by one. Everything is fine, Nick even seems to be in a good mood, until a certain song comes on. In bright red on the screen are the words _Power Station,_ as the heavy drum beat kicks in and Robert Palmer’s voice starts flowing through the speakers.

Simon finds himself grinning. He’s watched his bandmates climb the charts and he’s proud of them for their success. “What a strange video,” he laughs, nudging Nick with his elbow. “The guitarist and the bassist sure know how to shred though.”

Nick doesn’t even crack a smile at his joke like he normally would. He glances at him sadly instead, his expression so devoid of happiness that it hurts Simon to look at him. “It’s... something.”

An odd kind of feeling spreads in Simon’s chest. He turns his attention back to the video, watching the animated woman and Robert. _Some like it hot and some sweat when the heat is on,_ he lip syncs to the hit track. When the split screen appears with John and Andy, he looks at Nick again. There are tears forming in his eyes, lit by the flashing frames from the video.

“Nick, hey,” Simon murmurs, reaching out to touch his arm.

He blinks rapidly and his eyes spill over, bringing some of his mascara down his cheeks. He leans into Simon’s touch, his hands flying to his face as he tries his best not to sob. Simon pulls him in, embracing him around his shaking shoulders. The song doesn’t fit the mood at all, yet it continues to play as the soundtrack of the moment.

He lets Nick stay against his chest for a few moments, the tears flowing. “Could you tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, making sure to keep his voice low. “Please?”

Nick draws away from him, though it hurts him to do so. He gets up and leaves the room. To Simon’s dismay, he says nothing. He’s crying too hard to speak a single word and his mind is a jumble of nonsensical thoughts.

Simon turns off the TV and starts to follow him, but he makes it to the bathroom and shuts the door in his face. “Nick?” he tries. He puts his hand on the knob and turns, discovering that it’s locked. “I’m really worried about you.”

He hears Nick sigh heavily on the other side of the door. He wants to hold him in his arms again, to heal him however he can. Seeing him like this is making him hurt, too. “Come out and talk to me, please.”

“Just give me a second,” Nick replies, his mood evident in his voice.

“I’ll be in your room,” Simon calls, then backs away from the door. He makes his way down the hall to Nick’s room in their suite. He turns on both of the lamps on the symmetrical nightstands, casting the room in warm light.

He sits on the edge of the bed and swallows the lump in his throat. Whatever Nick’s about to tell him, it must be heavy. He’s not one to get upset about small things, he’s never been. He can’t help but worry himself sick. As he draws in a deep breath, Simon listens for his gentle footsteps coming down the hall.

When Nick walks in, he looks slightly less disheveled; he’s taken his makeup off and his eyes are no longer teary. Simon resists the urge to run towards him and crush him in a warm embrace. He instead pats the space next to him, which Nick quietly takes. He moves closer to him, their thighs touching, but it’s still not enough.

Simon notices this and puts an arm around him, draped over his shoulders. In turn, Nick rests his head on Simon’s shoulder, feeling a bit better now that he’s close to him again.

“I miss John like hell,” Nick begins. “That’s part of it.”

Simon doesn’t reply. He just sits there, comforting him as he finds the words he wants to say.

“I never thought the split would hit me so hard, you know? It’s kind of ridiculous, but I’ve convinced myself that he hates Duran, hates _me,_ and that he’s not coming back.” Nick feels the tears welling up again. He doesn’t know how it all got to this point.

“You know that’s not true,” Simon tells him. It’s far from the truth; he knows how important Nick is to John.

There’s so much warmth between the two of them. Nick feels safe. The tears start to recede, the urge to cry fading. “So you think he’ll come back?”

“Why wouldn’t he? We’re on good terms. All of us are. And you know how much the band means to him.”

“I guess I’m just worried about the band, about everything,” Nick sighs. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately. ”

Simon lets his other hand drop to his knee, a reassuring action. Nick is practically in his lap at this point. “I’m not going anywhere. The band means a lot to me, and so do you.”

Nick smiles against him. “You better not leave me.”

“I’d never dream of it. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I happen to like you, then.” Nick surprises himself when the words leave his lips, yet he finds he doesn’t regret them at all.

There’s a new kind of tension between them forming. Simon wants to act on it, but this isn’t mere impulse. It’s something more, something important. For once in his life, he’s left speechless.

Nick picks his head up and searches his face for signs. His baby blues are full of wonder as they meet his gaze, mesmerized. He watches his lips part, how soft and full they appear in the lamplight. His forgiving expression is telling him that he should do this, that he’ll never find a better time. This is it.

“I knew it,” Simon speaks suddenly, his voice fitting the moment just right; a bit like magic. “I knew it,” he repeats, the start of a smile on his face.

Nick’s heart is beating a mile a minute, pounding against his rib cage that it feels as though it may escape. He’s been waiting for this for too long now. “What are you waiting for? Kiss me th—”

Before he can finish his sentence, Simon’s lips are on his. It’s heaven, it’s bliss, it’s everything he dreamt it would be. In no time, it grows hungry and desperate, and Simon’s pinning him down into the mattress. He has since climbed on top of him, his knees framing each side of Nick’s thighs.

When they part for air, they’re both gasping, chests rising and falling rapidly. Simon lets out a breathless laugh, then dives back down again and starts pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses from Nick’s jawline down his neck. 

A small moan escapes Nick’s mouth. “Fuck, Charlie.”

“I can’t believe I hadn’t done that sooner,” he replies between kisses. “Think I’ve always had a fascination with your lips.”

Their mouths meet again as Simon’s hands start to roam. He pushes up Nick’s silk nightshirt to touch his skin there, reveling in its soft warmth. Nick grabs his shoulders to pull him down more, trying anything to get him closer. He needs him more than he can comprehend. Nick bites his lip lightly before they part again, making Simon even more flustered than he was to begin with.

He takes a second to look at the man beneath him, the sight of him every bit entrancing. His dyed black locks are splayed across the white duvet, creating a lovely contrast. His once tearstained eyes are now wide and full of longing and trust. His lips part as he smiles, beautiful teeth on display, and Simon can’t look away. The world could end and he’d be satisfied if the last thing he did was look at Nick at this moment in time. His face is a work of art, makeup or no makeup.

“You’re staring,” Nick says.

Simon moves his hand from his hip to his face, cupping his cheek. “Am I not allowed?”

Nick leans into his touch. “Of course you are.” He feels his heart swell, gazing into his eyes. He’s vulnerable like this, completely at his mercy and it’s just what he always wanted. He takes his manicured hands and pulls at Simon’s shirt. “This needs to come off.”

“So it will.” Simon smirks and pulls his tee shirt over his head in one swift motion. He tosses it on the floor beside the bed. “Better?”

“Much better.”

Simon then starts on Nick’s shirt as well, carefully undoing the small buttons until his chest is fully revealed. Nick lets him push the sleeves down his arms and pull it out from under him. He throws it in the same direction his went moments ago.

Nick reaches out and lets a hand run along his arm, from his bicep to his wrist. Simon breaks out in goosebumps from his feather light caress. “I want to touch you, _feel_ you,” he says, like it’s a secret being shared for the first time.

It isn’t often that Simon is wonderstruck. It must be Nick. Everything about him has his mind spinning, dizzying him in the most wonderful way. He’s miles better than any cheap thrill, drink or drug.

Nick laces their fingers together, his small hand fitting perfectly in Simon’s. “I want you to fuck me,” he almost begs, voice dripping in pure seduction.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t, Charlie.” Nick squeezes his hand, trying to show how much he means it. “I need you.”

Simon’s breath hitches. He wants him so bad that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, or where to go from here. “Okay, stay here and don’t you move.” He lets go of his hand and presses his lips to the corner of his mouth.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Nick says as he watches him slide off the bed and leave the room.

Simon’s room is just next door, but in his current state, it feels like it’s a million miles away from where he wants to be. He’s thankful he keeps a small stash of condoms and lube in his suitcase, for times like this. But he’s beginning to realize that everything about tonight is different from any other lay he’s had. This is _Nick_ : his bandmate, his best friend, his partner in crime. He’s so much more than a one night stand.

He grabs what he needs and hurries back to him. He has since moved up the bed, so that his head is propped up on the pillow. He puts a hand on his hip when Simon walks through the door, giving him a smoldering glance from under his thick lashes.

“You keep looking at me like that and our fun will be over before it even begins, if you catch my drift.” Simon drops the stuff next to Nick and climbs back into the bed, hovering over him like before.

“You’re hilarious,” Nick retorts. He lets Simon capture his lips in a bruising kiss, rougher than the others they’ve shared tonight.

Simon’s hands travel down to the waistband of Nick’s black pajama bottoms, tugging them down as their lips move in synch. He’s instantly met with his hardening cock, nothing else underneath the lustrous fabric. He disconnects from their kiss to toss them aside, then works to free himself of his own.

Nick hands him the lube, their fingers brushing. “I won’t need much prepping,” he starts, “I think about you fucking me and finger myself.”

Simon’s mouth goes dry. “Jesus, Nick,” he groans. “I wish you would’ve told me.” He uncaps the bottle and squeezes a decent amount onto two of his fingers, pressing them into Nick.

He gasps at the intrusion, then relaxes. “Oh, sure. _Hey, Simon, could you maybe put your huge cock in my ass tonight? Thanks in advance._ ” Nick laughs as he’s worked open. “Fuck, your fingers are so much better than mine.”

“My hands are bigger.” Simon smiles and adds a third finger, searching for the bundle of nerves he knows will stop Nick from running his mouth. He changes his angle and Nick arches his back with a blissed out sigh; he found it.

Nick clutches the sheets beneath him. “No... _fucking_ shit.”

“Nick Rhodes, sarcastic even in bed, who would’ve thought?”

“Shut up and fuck me, Charlie, my god,” Nick groans, the pleasure driving him up the wall. He can’t wait any longer.

Simon pulls his fingers out, honoring his wish. He tears open the condom wrapper and rolls it down his cock, then coats it in a generous amount of lube. “You know I always give you what you want,” he says as he pushes in.

Nick lays back as Simon enters him. He feels so good, so full; the real thing is better than he ever could have imagined it. When he’s in all the way, he wraps his legs around his hips, bringing him and Simon even closer.

“Go slow,” Nick whispers, “I want this to last.”

When he starts to thrust, Simon takes his time, savoring every movement. He pulls almost all the way out of him, then inches back in again. Nick feels amazing around his aching cock, so warm and tight. He lets his hands travel up his slender body. Nick meets them at his hips, grabbing and holding onto them as he thrusts, deep yet slow, like he asked.

Simon intertwines their fingers together and Nick squeezes his hands in return. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells him, the words tumbling from his brain out of his mouth. “Holy _fuck,_ ” he grunts, low and throaty. 

Nick looks up at him, his eyes sparkling with desire. There’s three words he’s been dying to say, three little words that shouldn’t be so easy to say, but they are all he can think of. He moans as Simon hits his prostate, over and over, his climax coming into view.

He needs to say those words. He has waited long enough already. “Charlie,” he starts, his heart pounding. Between the heat their bodies are producing and the slapping of their skin, it’s all too much, yet not enough at the same time. “I love you.”

Simon looks into his eyes and lets go of his hands. He cups his face with one and lets the other fall to clutch his waist. “I love _you,_ ” he replies, a smile growing on his face.

His thrusts grow sloppy as he leans forward and presses his lips to Nick’s, his orgasm approaching too. He kisses him hungrily, licking into his mouth. 

“I’m close,” Nick moans against his lips when they part.

“Me too, baby.”

Nick grips the sheets beneath him again as Simon drills into him. It takes a few more seconds, but he’s soon coming all over his stomach and Simon, so hard he swears he’s seeing stars. He follows shortly after with a grunt, come spilling into the condom.

He pulls out of his lover and collapses next to him. Breathing heavy, they both take a moment to catch their breath. Simon removes the condom and tosses it into a wastebasket near the edge of the bed. Nick rolls over so they’re chest to chest, and though they’re a sticky, sweaty mess, Simon wraps his arms around him and draws him closer anyway.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” Nick says against his bare chest.

“That you love me?” Simon asks.

“Yeah, everything else too.”

Simon sighs happily. “Doesn’t matter anymore. All that matters is now.”

“And what now?” Nick knows what he wants. He’s just hoping Simon wants the same thing.

“Well, I was _kind of_ hoping you’d be my boyfriend. Given that you said you love me, I think my chances are pretty good.” Simon smiles against his hair.

Nick giggles. “Your chances are _awfully_ good.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Of course it is, Charlie.”

———

There’s a surprise waiting for Simon and Nick when they touch down in New York. The surprise is a tall, lanky bassist who laughs a bit too loud and calls himself John Taylor.

Neither of them are expecting to see his face when they get off the plane. The airport isn’t swarming with fans for once, which is a relief for the three of them. Nick sees his form from afar and races towards him, wrapping his long time friend in a tight embrace. His mind screams the words _I missed you, I missed you_ as he clutches onto him.

John squeezes him back, grinning wide. His long brown locks fall in his face as they sway back and forth. They’re standing in the middle of the airport, both relieved and happy to see each other again.

“So good to see you,” John says what Nick is thinking. “Simon, you too, come here!”

Simon laughs and joins their embrace, feeling the love. “We missed you, Johnny.”

“I missed you both,” he replies as they all part. “Everything’s been crazy lately, I can’t wait to catch you up.”

“Well,” Nick starts, glancing at his watch. “We have a few hours to kill. Let’s go grab coffee or something.”

John beams, throwing an arm around him, just like old times. “I would love that.”

It’s like nothing has changed. Nick smiles, because Simon was right. He has nothing to worry about; John came back to him, and he always will.


End file.
